


Stripped Bare

by ThisWasInevitable



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Crushes, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Prompt Fill, Rough Oral Sex, Sex in a Car, Spanking, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, sternclay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: Based on a request for the prompt: “ I strip because I enjoy it and it’s good money, but I didn’t expect to be hired for your friend’s bachelor party. hello, professor."In case it's a concern, the stripping is mostly set-up, the plot is more to do with Stern and Barclay admitting they're into each other and exploring that relationship.





	1. The Reveal

Most days, Lucky Stern likes this job.

Stripping isn’t what he’d imagined he’d do during college. But it keeps his head above water and the loans from overwhelming him. He likes most of his colleagues, and the place he works is in the gay neighborhood, which is relatively safe when he gets off at weird hours of the night. Plus it means he gets more exercise than he probably otherwise would as a student working two jobs.

So yeah, most days are fine.

Then there are days like the one he’s having now.

He’s one of two dancers hired for a bachelor party, a small one at a nice house in the fancy, woodsy part of town. He and his partner are doing one of their favorite routines (Scully and Mulder, with his partner doing the drag for Scully), so he’s feeling confident.

Until he turns around and sees a familiar face.

His professor.

Technically his former professor. Also, technically, the professor he’s had a raging crush on for two years.

Barclay, as he asked his students to call him, was an athro professor, but Stern had him for a folklore class (“Cryptids in American Folklore and Culture”) as he finished his depth requirements during his sophmore year. It was his favorite class of the year, and that was only partially due to his professor looking like a lumberjack centerfold (he’s on the younger end of professors, that much Stern knows). Barclay made the material engaging and challenging and shared Sterns fascination with cryptids and their role in the world. And so Stern went to office hours, sometimes because he needed a clarification and (most times) to talk with Barclay about his theories or research or the latest episode of the ridiculous Bigfoot hunting show they both watched. They kept meeting even when Stern moved into the next semester and the semester after that. His life got busier, but he still made time once a week to drop in on his favorite professor (and time after to go somewhere private to jack off to the idea of having sex in his office).

Hell, he was in Barclays office five days ago, telling him he’d scored a paid internship after graduation that might, one day, get him a job investigating paranormal phenomena.

And now here he is, looking as surprised as Stern feels.

He can’t bolt, he can’t, they’d probably demand a refund and he’d screw himself and his partner out of a nights pay. So he goes through the routine on autopilot, though every time he hazards a glance at Barclay the other man is looking down. Except for when they finish, both down to what could be called a thong, if you were being generous. Then he’s staring, and Stern’s never felt more exposed.

They disappear back into the kitchen (their staging area) even as some of the attendees cheer for more. He tells his partner to go for it, then throws on an undershirt and pants so he can go into the garden and have a panic attack.

He’s doubled over, stress dry-heaving into some shrubs. It’s not that he’s ashamed, but he’s heard so many horror stories about people who stripped having a client who recognized them blab and cost them their job or their social circle or, or..

A water glass enters his vision.

“Thanks.” He rasps.

“No problem.”

He stands bolt upright, turns, finds Barclay standing in front of him looking worried. For a moment an awkward pause fills the night air.

“Found a way to pay for school, huh?”

“Yes. What do I have to do to convince you not to tell anyone?” He sighs, tries to keep his shoulders from shaking with pent up panic.

“Convince me to-oh, Lucky, hey, you don’t have to anything.” A hand rests on his shoulder, the gesture familiar and comforting.

“Hold on, are there other people who know and _are_ making you do stuff?” His tone is deathly serious.

“No, it’s just, I got a bit jumpy and went into damage control mode. I apologize.” He takes another sip of water, still can’t look Barclay in the eye (he may be the only man Stern actually has to look up to talk to).

“Listen, I know folks who did the same thing and god knows you’re not the only student at the school who’s landed on this as the best way to avoid money troubles. So no judgement or anything from me, okay.”

Stern nods.

“How’s your stomach?”

“Still feels like shit, but less so.”

“C’mon, lemme make you some tea, it might help.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Need a break from the festivities myself, you’ll be doing me a favor.” He smiles and Stern tries not to melt at the sweetness in it.

They head back into the kitchen and Barclay moves through it effortlessly as he grabs a kettle, a mug, and some tea.

“So…how do you know the groom? Or is it grooms?”

“Grooms. I know Ned better than his fiance, met him through friend of mine named Duck. I’m willing to bet Ned’s the one who hired you guys. He can never pass up a chance to be over the top. Plus I imagine both him and Boyd are enjoying themselves.

“Boyd?”

“Groom number two, guy with all the tattoos and muscles.”

There’s a whoop from the other room just as the kettle boils.

Barclay sets the mug in front of Stern before continuing to putter about the kitchen.

“You hungry at all.”

“Not really, what with panic and the puking.”

“Good point. Lemme know if you start feeling different.”

Stern blows on his tea to cool it, catches Barclay looking at him.

He’s blushing.

“Was the Agent Mulder bit something you picked, or just a happy accident.”

“I picked it as one of my go-tos. Everything said to choose things that made me feel confident and sexy and well, you know me.”

“Yeah, future special agent Stern. Can see why you picked it, it looks good on you.” He sticks a serving knife into a pan of brownies. Stern wishes he had an appetite, there’s some really good food in here.

Wait, does he smell buffalo wings?

Indeed he does. There they are, sitting on a tray, probably left over from dinner.

He loves buffalo wings.

“Help yourself.” Barclay grins as he slides the tray across the island to him, passes a napkin along behind it.

Sterns resolve lasts two seconds and then takes a bite.

“These are amazing.” He whispers and Barclay chuckles.

“Thanks, came up with the mix for the sauce myself. Took a few passes to get the texture right.”

“You made these?”

“Made basically all the food for tonight. It’s a hobby, and like cooking for my friends.”

“That’s very attractive.” He murmurs, taking another bite of the wing. Barclay arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

The kitchen door swings open and one of the guests comes in, a bigger guy wearing dark green.

“Hidin in the kitchen already?” He drawls at Barclay, before catching sight of Stern, “Oh, howdy, your friend out there said you were feelin sick all of a sudden. You doin okay? Barclay behavin himself?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry for leaving you all with less than you paid for.”

“To be honest, think your friend’s got it covered. Only a few of the fellas are into the whole, uh, whole, y’know.” He gestures at Sterns outfit.

“You’re not dying to have someone cute and mostly naked in your lap, Duck?” Barclays tone is teasing.

“If I wanted that, Indrid is _right there_.”

“How’s he enjoying the dancers?”

“He’s had too many of those hard sodas, so he’s the kind of drunk where all he wants to do is stare at the lamp with the color changin bulb. Relatedly,” he grabs a water glass and fills it, “I ain’t drinkin anymore tonight so I can get us home safe.”

“Here, take Indrid one of these.” Barclay slips a brownie onto a small plate.

“Thanks, man. See you in a bit.” Then he disappears.

“He seems nice.”

“Yeah, Duck’s a good guy. He and Indrid got married about a year ago, think that man’s gonna be in the honeymoon stage for the rest of his life.”

“Is everyone here married or about to be?” Stern had assumed a bachelor party would have more, well, bachelors.

“I’m not.” Barclay shrugs and Stern nearly chokes on his food when the larger man gives him a suggestive look and sits down beside him.

“What about you? Anyone waiting at home to rub your…legs after a hard nights work?”

“That’s oddly specific, and no.”

“Gotta say I’m surprised. You’re the complete package, smart, hard-working, good looking, only a little messy.”

“I’ll have you know I’m very fastidious-oh” Barclay reaches forward, wipes stray sauce from the edge of his mouth. Stern takes a chance, turns his head slightly and brings the tip of the thumb into his mouth and playfully bites it. Barclay inhales sharply, pupils widening, before slowly pulling his hand back.

“Easy, tiger, I’m not making any kind of move until you’re not a student.”

“I don’t have any classes with you, we’re not even in the same department.” Well, that came out as more of a whine that he wanted.

“That’s my policy, babe. I don’t date any students or TAs, period.”

“But graduation’s not for another month.”

“Gives you time to change your mind safely. And if you still want it, then it gives you lots of time to savor the anticipation.” His deep voice is almost a purr as he brings a hand around to rub Sterns neck, pulling them closer as a result.

“You’re a scrupulous man, Barclay, and right now I could kill you for it.”

“Believe me, it’s as hard for me as it is for you. But if we do, well, anything like that, I want to treat you right and on the level from the start.”

He presses a kiss on the top of Sterns head before sitting back.

“Oh HO!”

Stern jumps and Barclay groans

“Hey, Ned.”

“Here I thought you were simply preparing more refreshments and seeing to our under the weather guest.”

“I’m doing exactly that.”

“Barclay, there were specific rules I agreed to when I hired them-”

“So it _was_ you”

“-and one was that there were to be no private sessions OR touching of the performers.”

Barclay is turning shades of pink never before seen by human eyes.

“It’s alright, really, Barclay was just helping me calm down.”

The man, Ned, look’s concerned.

“Did something happen?”

Stern racks his brain for a half-truth to explain the whole thing.

“Ned, this gentleman is a student at the college. He and I know each other, so you can imagine it was a bit of an unwelcome surprise for him to see me here, so I was doing what I could to help him feel better. And so help me, Ned fucking Chicane, if you ever repeat that piece of information about him to anyone, I will never let you near my cooking again.”

“You have my word. My real one.” Ned looks genuinely somber, “now that’s out of the way.” He bursts into a deep belly laugh.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy, for landing you in such a difficult, but hilarious, situation. I will be sure to inform your employer that we were all extremely satisfied tonight and wish to add a considerable gratuity on top of what your friend out there has collected from my betrothed.”

“Thank you.” And Stern thought he knew academics with bloated vocabularies. This guy takes the cake.

“My pleasure.” He winks at them and heads back out into the living room.

Stern gives Barclay a perplexed look.

“That’s Ned Chicane? The guy who runs the Cryptonomica? How the fuck can he afford this place.”

“I’ve learned it’s best not to ask.” Barclay steps onto the floor, offers his hand, “C’mon, handsome, help me get the desserts ready.”

“Only if you let me lick whip cream off you.”

“Bold, but no. Not for another month.” He hands him serving tool and Stern takes it with a smile.

—————————————–

Stern has been a graduate all of two days.

Last night was spent with his folks, who were delighted and proud and took him out to dinner.

Tonight he’s working the club, and getting more distracted by the minute. Because someone special is picking him up tonight.

He’s changing into his street clothes when Ray, the most classic butch lesbian he’s ever met and the best bouncer in the city, taps him.

“Hey, there was a bigger fella who came in during your last number and watched like a fucking hawk. Saw him i the back parking lot with a car. Don’t recognize him as a regular. You need someone to walk home with you?”

“Was he taller than me and wearing plaid?”

“Yep.”

“It’s alright, I know him. He’s my date.”

Ray gives him a thumbs up as he steps out the back door.

Barclay leans against the side of his car and watches Stern as he approaches.

“Hey there.” He stands up straight, opens his arms and pulls Stern into a hug.

“I didn’t expect you to catch part of the show.”

“Curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see what it looked like when you weren’t dealing with a massive, unwelcome surprise. Gotta say, you looked pretty damn good.”

“Apparently you were watching me so intently I had to convince the bouncer you weren’t an unwelcome suitor.”

“Nope, nothing but pure intentions.”

“Is that so?” He rolls his hips and Barclay hisses with pleasure.

“I could see you were hard from the other end of the parking lot.”

Barclay grins, and then pulls Stern in for a kiss, mouth hot and hungry against his own. Stern rolls his hips again and Barclay growls, pushes him against the car.

“You got me, my intentions are fifty percent pure and fifty percent ‘if you don’t get in the car I’m gonna lose what’s left of my self control and fuck you over the hood.”

“Jesus.” Stern moans, one hand searching for the handle of the door. Barclay pulls back and grabs it, opening the door and gesturing for Stern to get in.

By the time they get to Barclays place, Stern is close to passing out from excitement. Barclay is on him as soon as they’re safely inside the apartment, tossing keys and jacket haphazardly towards the kitchen counter even as he pushes Stern up against it. His kisses are only broken when he speaks.

“Goddamn, this is worth every time I had to lock my office door and fuck my own hand after you came to see me.”

Stern moans at the image, kisses his way across Barclays cheek while he tugs at this shirt.

“You’re one-of-a-kind, Lucky. Didn’t think I stood a chance with you.”

“Likewise. God, Barclay OHgod” The larger man grinds against him, hands digging into his ass.

“Where do you want to start? Assuming you still want to ohokay.” Barclay laughs as Stern drops to knees and starts undoing his belt, “hold on, got a condom in my jacket.” There’s a rustling above him and in a few seconds Barclay hands him the foil packet.

“Presumptuous.” Stern teases as he unzips his fly.

“I wanted to be ready in case we didn’t even make it to the apartment.”

Stern smiles to himself at that as he yanks Barclays pants and boxers down; the man is exceedingly thoughtful and oh. Oh lord, he is big. He cock is thick and long and Stern needs it in his mouth right now.

As he rolls the condom on he notices Barclay looking down at him with just as much affection as lust in his eyes.

Before Stern can take him in his mouth, a hand grips his chin and holds him in a place.

“Something you want?”

“I assumed that was obvious.”

Barclay clucks his tongue.

“You want it, you gotta ask for it.”

“I want to suck your cock.”

“Close, but not quite. Need you to ask nicely.” Barclay uses his other hand to move his cock against Sterns lips teasingly.

“Please let me suck your cock?”

“Much better.” Barclay releases his chin, braces his hand on the counter, and Stern gratefully opens his mouth, takes the first inch or so in. He shuts his eyes just as warm fingers ghost across his cheek.

Jesus, he can feel his mouth getting sore from the stretch and it’s been a maximum of thirty seconds and something about that idea, of there being so much of Barclay and it’s all his, makes him moan. He pushes his head forward, takes in more of the shaft and rolls his tongue across it. Tries for more, winces when it starts getting close to this throat.

“Easy, tiger.” Barclays fingers card through his hair, “don’t hurt yourself. Need that sweet mouth of yours in good shape if I’m gonna keep fucking it.”

Stern whines, brings one hand to cover the rest of his cock while the other traces zig-zags on Barclays ass.

“I know, you just want to please don’t you?”

The moan that leaves him is instantaneous and he nods. He’d fantasized about partners saying things like that, dominant and sweet all at once, but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask.

He’s kicking himself for not finding a way to practice deep-throating, he’s seen the bulge in Barclays jeans for months (years) and knew it was formidable.

The hand brushing hair from his forehead steers him from those thoughts.

“Don’t gotta worry about how much of my cock fits. I like it fast, with a lot of pressure. Think you can do that for me?”

Stern locks eyes with him as he eagerly nods, tightens his grip and works his hand rapidly, pre-cum and saliva helping him along. Focuses less on depth and more on sucking, pleasure pulsing through him whenever Barclays cockhead makes contact with his cheek.

“Shit, yeah, that’s it. Goddamn, look at you, wanna watch that face bob up and down on my cock every night.” There’s a sharp thwack as Barclay slaps his other hand down on the counter and groans. Stern keeps his head still, moves his hand as fast as he’s able and sucks hard, tongue swiping at the tip

“I’m close, babe, so fucking close. Lemme hear you, I wanna hear how much you like sucking my cock.”

Stern moans from deep in his chest, lets a series of broken moans punctuate the small jerks of Barclays hips, the only movement he’s made in his mouth.

“That’s it, fuck FUCK, Lucky, baby, so good.” He cums with another groan, one hand dropping down to hold Sterns head in place. There’s a panting growl as he adds, “gonna keep my cock in your mouth for hours one of these nights” and Sterns whole body pings with interest both at the image and at the promise of this being an ongoing arrangement.

Barclay carefully pulls back, and by the time Stern gets to his feet he’s opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a napkin, which Stern gladly accepts.

“That was…damn.” Barclay chuckles, kissing his neck as he finishes wiping his mouth.

“Did I, uh..” Barclay looks at him curiously and he nearly chickens out, “did I do well?”

Something exceedingly hungry flashes behind the taller mans eyes and he strokes a thumb across Sterns lips.

“Yeah, you did. You were real good for me, Lucky.” The chasteness of the kiss that follows these words is in stark contrast to lascivious tone they take as he continues, “you gonna keep being my good boy tonight.”

Before Stern can respond, two things happen: his stomach gives an comically loud gurgle, and his thighs twinge from that nights work.

Barclay chuckles and Stern glares at the lower half of his body.

“How dare you sabotage the mood at a time like this?” He hisses, which only makes Barclay laugh harder as he pulls his underwear and pants back up.

“I’ll make you some dinner. Have a seat.”

Stern drops into a chair and watches Barclay root through the fridge, pulling out a few containers and tossing butter into a pan. His leg is still twinging, so he stands, swings it up and rests his heel on the table to stretch it out.

Barclay drops the wooden spoon he was holding, along with his jaw.

“The dancing helps with flexibility.” Stern shrugs, casually.

“No kidding.”

“The stove is beginning to smoke.”

“Shit! Ah, well, guess you’re having leftover risotto warmed in really brown butter.”

Stern does, and it’s delicious.

As he eats, he slips his shoes off and Barclay motions for him to put his foot in his lap and proceeds to gently rub it as he chats with Stern about the research he’ll be conducting over the summer.

“..So yeah, it’s mostly pouring through interviews and newspapers, but maybe there’s one roadtrip in the mix.” He glances down at Sterns plate, now clean, then smirks at him.

“Care to continue this conversation in the bedroom?”

“Very much so.”

Barclay takes his hand and leads him into a room down the hall. Like the rest of the space, it looks as though someone tried to cram an Appalachian lodge into one bedroom apartment.

“Legs still sore?” He murmurs, arms around Sterns waist and lips grazing the back of his neck.

“Yes, but it’s fine, I don’t want that to get in the way of whatever you had planned.”

There’s a soft laugh against his skin.

“Still trying so hard to be good me, huh?”

Sterns melts back against him with breathy “yes.”

“Then take your clothes off and lay on the bed. Facedown. Underwear can stay on, if that’s more comfortable.”

Stern whips off his t-shirt, tosses his jeans after it and flops onto the bed on his stomach. He can’t really see what Barclay’s doing, feels the bed dip after a few moments. And then something cool hits his thigh. For a second he thinks it’s stray lube and Barclay is getting right to the point, but then fingers begin kneading at his muscles and he sighs into the pillow.

“See, Lucky, here’s the thing; you wanna be good for me, you gotta accept that means I’m gonna be good to you.” Barclays hand presses down towards his calf, stopping to thumb at a knot, “don’t gotta try to give me the right answers or anything like that. Just gotta tell me what you want.”

Slowly but sure he works his way down one leg and then up the other before lightly tapping Sterns ass.

“Roll over.”

When Stern does, his breath catches in his throat; Barclay’s in only his boxers, his body otherwise bare and broad and so appealing Stern thinks this may be a dream.

Barclay runs a hand appreciatively down his chest, drinking him in.

“You act like you’ve never seen me in my underwear before. Which is demonstrably false.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t do this” the hand moves across Sterns hips, “or this” down to his thigh, “or this” it’s on his cock, gently stroking it up.

“Fair point, ohhhhh.” His back arches as Barclay adds more pressure and he frantically tugs his boxer briefs off, Barclay not missing a beat before taking his cock in his hand. The larger man shifts so he’s laying on his side, hand still working Stern over and lips kissing his cheeks.

“I want you to tell me when you get close. You gonna do that?”

“Yes, Barclay, I promise, I oh, oh fuck.” Barclays grip and pace turn relentless and Stern lets himself be carried away by the feeling until his orgasm starts building.

“Close, I’m, oh fuck you.” Barclays hand stills as he leans in and bites Sterns ear.

“What did I say earlier about being polite?” The growl in his voice makes Stern whimper and wriggle his hips.

“I, I, apologize, please, pleaseplease keep going.”

“Much better.” He starts stroking him again, panting against his ear, and soon Stern feels himself getting close. He could just not tell him. But where’s the fun in that?

“I’m so close again.”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes, please Barclay I want to so badly, I want to come in your hand, wanna come for you, I want, I want-” He’s babbling, he must sound absurd, but Barclay moans, kisses him hard.

“Then be a good boy and come for me.”

Stern bucks his hips, thrusting as best he can in time with Barclays movements and then he’s coming, Barclays name an obscene sound on his lips.

He lays, shaking, as it finishes washing over him, and then Barclay kisses his forehead.

“You did so well. You were so good for me.”

Stern turns his head, makes small, needy noise that Barclay correctly interprets as wanting a kiss. Then he slides of the bed, returning with a towel for the stray cum on Sterns stomach. He’s not quite sure what he’s supposed to do now.

“Do I, should I go?”

“Only if you want to. Be glad if you stayed the night, but don’t want you to if it feels weird.”

“I’d like to, very much.”

Stern means to get up and get ready for bed, or at least ask for pajamas. But Barclay is there and warm and holding him and he’s so happy and so sleepy that he drops off into pleasant dreams, the feeling of Barclays breath slow and even against the back of his neck.

Some disastrous work days, he thinks as he dozes, have very happy endings indeed.


	2. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stern and Barclay continue to explore their budding relationship.

_Staff will also agree to an NDA, and will be assigned triple-encrypted communication devices for work business in order to ensure-_

“Lucky, you’re up again in two minutes!”

Stern flips the training binder closed and heads towards the stage. It’s his second to last week at the club, and because it’s summer there’s been no end to flocks of traveling bros waiting to give him money when he does his routine.

As he starts going through the first part of it, he spots a familiar face in the crowd: Barclay.

They’ve been dating for a little over a month. At first Stern wasn’t sure he should refer to it as such, was more than willing to accept that he and Barclay were only a casual arrangement. But it rapidly became apparent that Barclay doesn’t just want Stern in his bed. They go out on dates, text everyday, have nights where all they do is curl up on the couch and watch old episodes of Monsterquest. It’s clear Barclay likes having someone to dote on and care for, and while Stern had thought it may have solely been some kind of kink, it seems like that’s just how he is. He’s a big guy with a lot of love to give, and right now he wants to give a large amount of it to Stern.

Barclay’s come to see him perform a few times. Some days it’s because he couldn’t figure out how to fill time between whatever he was doing and picking Stern up. Those nights, he comes across as shy. Other nights, he’s using his presence as a way to wind them both up for whatever he has planned.

Only one way to find out.

Stern begins working the crowd, collecting cash as he goes. Barclay catches his eye, holds up a bill. So it’s the second reason, then.

He makes his way over, is careful not to give Barclay anymore attention or contact than he would anyone else. As the bill slips into one of his few remaining pieces of clothing, Barclay whispers, “good boy.”

His shift can’t end soon enough.

By the time it does and he gets changed, Barclay is waiting for him in the parking lot as usual.

“Hello.” He smiles as he slides into the car.

“Hey there.” Barclay leans over and kisses him before starting the car and heading out towards his apartment.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He brings a hand to rest on Barclays knee

“Always do. Busy today?”

“Yeah, still carved out some time to read up and prepare for my internship.”

“So diligent. Guess it was good I timed it so that your favorite customer was late in the evening so you didn’t get distracted.” He teases.

“I don’t know what you mean, Barclay. Earlier there was guy who tipped me a fifty.”

“That so?” Barclay shoots him a smirk, brings a hand to rub at the knot in the back of Sterns neck.

“There was also a gentleman who was extremely flattering during my first dance.” He returns the smirk, voice playing coy.

“That how you want to do this, babe?” The hand stops massaging his neck, grips it instead.

“Yes.” Stern breathes out. Were Barclay actually jealous or possessive, actually thought that what Stern did for clients during his job was anything other than work, Stern would have already tucked and rolled out of that car. But as Barclay suddenly pulls off into a deserted county road, his heart is pounding for all the right reasons; he adores being good for Barclay, but there are times when being his diligent, rule following, hard working self loses it’s appeal and all he wants is to be difficult.

And he’s learned that those moments are just as enjoyable for the two of them as the times when he’s being good.

Barclay kills the engine as Stern undoes his seat-belt. Then the larger man grabs him and hauls him onto his stomach, his head resting in his lap, nose brushing the tent in his jeans. He nuzzles it, tries to mouth at it but Barclay tangles fingers in his hair and pulls his head out of range before pinning it down.

“Nope, that’s for when you’re behaving yourself.”

There’s a sharp slap against his ass and he yelps, causing two more to follow.

“That’s what you get when you’re being a pain in the ass.”

Stern moans, wiggles his ass to ask for more, gets what he wants in a flurry of impacts and soon he’s panting, pressing his lips against Barclays leg. Barclay stops, switches to soft rubs and caresses.

“A fifty got your attention, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’ll give you fifty. That was about twenty, so you got thirty more to go. Count.” He slaps down again and Stern moans.

“I said _count_.” He growls.

“One.” Stern pants.

“Much better.” Another slap.

“Two.”

By the time he reaches twenty the need to touch Barclay is overwhelming. And since the other man has one hand in his hair and the other punishing him…

He fumbles with Barclays fly, manages to get a hold of his cock and begins stroking him.

“That’s, fuck, real nice babe, but you’re not getting out of the rest of this.” Number twenty three comes harder to emphasize the point.

“I’m not trying to, I swear, I justAHtwentyfour, need to touch you.”

Barclay chuckles, nods so that Stern knows he can. It’s not graceful, the position awkward and the impacts causing him to jolt, but soon Barclay is groaning in pleasure.

“Thirty.” Stern whimpers, a noise that intensifies when Barclay pulls his head back, moves Sterns hands to his thigh and uses his own to stroke himself.

“Want me to come on you? Think you deserve it?”

“Yes, please, Barclay.”

“Well, ah fuck there we go, since you’re getting your manners back…” He yanks Stern further back just as he cums, drops hitting Sterns neck and upper chest. The grip on his head disappears and he collapses, head coming to rest on Barclays thigh. Strong fingers pet his hair even as Barclay comes down from his orgasm.

“I uh, I have some wet wipes in the glove box. Get ‘em for you in a sec.”

“Thank you.” Stern murmurs. He feels Barclay shift, hears a zipper, and then strong hands carefully guide his head fully into Barclays lap so that Stern is looking up at him.

“How you doing?”

“I believe I may need an ice pack for certain areas when we get to your place.”

“Think I can provide that.” He leans down, kisses Stern softly. There’s a few minutes of content silence as Barclay strokes his hair while they catch their breath.

“A fifty, huh? Don’t know how anyone carries that big a bill on them. I’d be constantly worried I’d lose it.”

They chat quietly for awhile, Barclay talking about his research and Stern about work, until Barclay is sure Stern doesn’t need more care or cuddles for the moment. Stern is still wildly turned on as they head for the apartment, but he has a feeling that won’t be a problem for long.

—————————————————-

“Easy, tiger, easy.” Barclay laughs against Sterns mouth as he tugs him towards the bedroom, “thought you needed an ice pack.”

“Later, Barclay. Right now I need you.”

“Damn, that was pretty smooth mister future special agent.”

Just as they enter the bedroom, Barclay giggles.

“You got glitter on you.”

“What? Oh, damn it, I must have picked it up from Marshall when I hugged him.” Stern steps to the small mirror over the dresser. As he brushes the silver sparkles from his cheek, Barclay comes behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, presses him against the dresser while rolling his hips. Stern suddenly knows exactly what he wants from the night.

“I want you to fuck me.” He pushes back against his cock, feels it start responding as it rubs against his ass.

“Like this?” Barclay kisses the back of his neck, puts more weight against him.

“On the bed, but yes otherwise correct.”

Barclay growls, hugs him close, “Go get comfortable, I’ll get what we need.”

Stern undresses, folds his clothes and sets them on a chair, lays on his back and stretches his limbs, enjoying how safe and wanted he feels in this moment.

Barclay sets the condoms and lube on the bedside table, pulls his clothes off in a hurry and then climbs on top of Stern, peppering his cheeks and lips with kisses. It’s only when Stern is laughing and sighing with delight that Barclay relents, slips a condom onto his finger and coats it with lube.

Stern tenses when it first pushes inside him. Barclay runs his hands gently across his legs, waits until he relaxes before pushing further. He coos praise in Sterns ear, plants kisses along his shoulder until he’s able to add a second finger.

“Oh god.” Stern moans, tensing again.

“Been awhile?” Barclay kisses his nose.

“Uhhhhh.”

Barclay stops, looks at him with curiosity.

“Have you done this before?”

“Uhhh, well, by myself a few times but never, uh, never” he swallows, suddenly self-conscious, “never with someone else.”

“No fucking way.”

“Is that bad? I had assumed it wouldn’t be an issue but-” Barclay stops him with a kiss.

“Lucky, there’s nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just, wish I’d known before that it was your first time, woulda done like, rose petals and candles and shit. Made it special.” He’s mumbling, blushing a bit.

“First of all, virginity of any kind is a social construct-”

“I forget you took Dr.Wall’s sexuality course”

“-secondly, this is far from our ‘first time.’ It’s not even our first time this evening.”

Barclay smiles at him as he huffs out a laugh.

“…will you at least let me give you champagne when we’re done?”

Now it’s Stern’s turn to laugh, and he reaches up to brush Barclays cheek.

“I believe I can indulge you in that.” He pushes down on Barclays fingers, lets out a soft “oh.”

“Seems like we oughta indulge in something else first.” Two fingers continue working him open as Barclay bites at his ear and neck.

“More, please, moreOhohhh.” A third thick finger presses in.

“This’ll probably get you there. But one of these nights I wanna see you take the whole hand.”

“I’d like, oh shit, I’d like that immensely.”

“That’s my good boy, so curious and eager to try new things.”

Stern moans, works his hips in response to his words, smiles when Barclays cock brushes his thigh as his voice dips lower.

“Oh I am going to fucking rail you.” He pulls his hand out, tosses the condom into the trash before grabbing another and rolling it onto his cock. When he returns to his previous position Stern grabs his head and pulls him down for a kiss, desperate and grateful all at once.

“You gonna be good for me, babe? Gonna tell me what you need or if it’s too much?”

“ _Yes_ , yesyesyes, oh lord.” The head of Barclays cock presses in and Stern grabs the blanket beneath him. The man above him raises up slightly, grabs one of Sterns legs and hooks it over his shoulder.

“Been meaning to make use of how flexible you are.” He grins, thrusts shallowly.

“Make, make as much use of me as you please. Oh! Ohshit.” Barclay bottoms out and for a moment all Stern can focus on is the stretch, the feeling of having Barclay inside him. There’s a delicious tug and drag as Barclay slowing fucks him, occasionally turning his head to kiss the leg thrown over his shoulder. It’s magnificent, the view of him as he does that but it’s also a bit-

“Lonely.” That sounded more cogent in his head. He makes a “come down here” gesture to add to it. Barclay raises an eyebrow, doesn’t stop fucking him.

“As lovely as, ah!, as this is, I need you down here.”

Barclay tilts his head, expectantly, and he remembers his manners.

“Please.” He lets his leg drop back down to the mattress and Barclay shifts, lowers down so they’re face to face. They kiss lazily, Barclays tongue slipping between Sterns lips to find his own.

“Touch yourself for me baby, yeah, there we go.”

Stern purrs at the praising tone, works his hand over his cock. He tries to match Barclays rhythm, thrusts into his hand as Barclay thrusts into him. The angle of his hips shifts and Stern throws his head back as his movements press against his prostate. Barclay laughs against his neck, hits the same spot over and over until Stern is letting out garbled versions of curse words.

“You like having me inside you?” There’s that growl in his voice again and Stern knows just what to say to turn the large man into putty.

“Yes, it feels so good, you’re so _big_ it feels fucking incredible, I, oh fuck, I want you to do this every night, want you to fuck me open, Barclay, pleaseplease.” His voice catches as he comes, spilling across his hand and Barclays stomach.

“Don’t, don’t you dare stop, I want you to come in me.”

Barclay makes a sound Stern’s never heard before; he _whimpers_ , moves Sterns legs and arms so that they’re wrapped around him.

“Hold tight, babe.”

“I already am-OHhhhh _jesus_ ” Barclay rams into him and Stern digs his fingers into his back, finds he has no other words left but “yes” and “please.” Barclay growls and whimpers against the pillow by Sterns head, hips snapping more erratically.

“That’s it Lucky, take me, take every fucking inch, fuck, you’re so good, so good baby, c’monnnoohshit.” There’s a final low moan as his hips stutter and then stop. Gingerly he pulls out, rolls onto his back. Stern nestles beside him, rests his head against his chest, traces his fingers through the dark hair covering it.

A finger comes under his chin, tilts it up and then Barclay is softly kissing him.

“Well, how was your first time?” He asks with a playful smile, laughs when Stern rolls his eyes at the term.

“It was excellent. Although I still need an ice pack and I fear I may not be able to sit down for the next few hours. Did I, was that, was it alright on your end given my…inexperience?”

“Better than alright. You’re incredible, Lucky, in and out of bed.” He pulls him close, one large hand running up and down his side.

“How about you go and get cleaned up? I’m gonna go grab you that ice pack.”

Stern nods, heads towards the shower as Barclay disappears into the kitchen. By the time he’s done rinsing off Barclay is waiting with a robe, bundles him up and leads him back to bed.

There’s a bottle and two glasses waiting on the bedside table, and a green candle flickers on the dresser.

“I thought you were joking about the champagne.”

“Nope. I keep a bottle around in case of unexpected celebrations.” He pours out a glass and hands it to him, pours another for himself that he drinks as he putters about the room, cleaning himself off and getting into his pajamas.

“I feel spoiled, I’ve never had champagne. Not generally in a college students budget.” He takes a sip, “ooh, it’s quite pleasant.”

Barclay settles on the bed beside him, kisses his cheek.

“I’ll spoil you as much as I please, babe. Or, uh, I guess as much as a professor’s salary and your own comfort allows.” He looks down with a blush that makes Sterns heart flutter in his chest.

“I enjoy it, but know it is never an obligation. I’m yours, Barclay, and that’s all I need to be happy.”

As they lay in bed later, Barclay already asleep and Stern following close behind, he realizes those words may not just have been afterglow speaking.

In fact, he’s pretty sure he meant them.


	3. The Kept Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay makes good on his promise from their first night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Stern comes home with a full face of make-up due to hazing at work. He takes all of it off except the lipstick, which he explicitly says he likes wearing.

Barclay taps his pencil against his notes. He’s been going through his recordings from different interviews, many taken from his research over the summer. He’s trying to find ways that Bigfoot stories and sightings track to the myths and culture of the indigenous groups of the pacific northwest. 

Then he gasps as a tongue moves slowly across the head of his cock. 

He looks down, expression loving but stern over the rims of his reading glasses. 

“Be patient, babe. You’re doing so well, you’ve almost made it half an hour.”

Lucky’s brown eyes narrow as he huffs, flicks his tongue over the same spot. 

He’s sitting between Barclays legs under his desk on his knees, chin resting on the chair, hands on the ground, and mouth around the first third of Barclays cock. His instructions are simply to hold it while Barclay works, and if he’s patient Barclay will reward him. 

He flicks his tongue again and Barclay lets out a little growl.

“Keep that up and you’re won’t get to come tonight. And I won’t come in, on, or anywhere near you.”

That gets a response, Lucky whimpering and rubbing his nose and cheek against Barclays thigh, eyes full of apology rather than challenge before returning to his former position. 

“Much better.” Barclay reaches down, strokes that dark hair that’s still slicked back, glides his thumb down his cheek, before returning to his work,

It’s not that he isn’t desperately turned on. Just having his gorgeous, wonderful boyfriend obediently acting as a cockwarmer is keeping him right on the edge of getting hard. But this is part of the scene, and part of the pleasure for him. Not to mention, Lucky is wearing lipstick, and that is doing some _interesting_ things to Barclays arousal levels. 

It’s also part of why they chose to do this particular activity tonight. 

Lucky had arrived at his apartment with half a face of make-up, much to Barclays confusion. After all, he’d been at his internship, and had definitely not been wearing any make-up when he left that morning.

Lucky explained he’d been hazed, for lack of a better word, told the make-up was part of learning how to do covert techniques only to discover it was not anything of the kind.

“It’s such an unnecessarily macho, combative place sometimes!” This he said while wiping the remaining eye-shadow, mascara, and highlighter from his face. 

“I am, however, keeping the lipstick on. I like it and also fuck them for thinking having it on ought to be something I found shameful.”

“It’s a good color on you.” Barclay added as he finished making tea. He’d helped Stern paint his nails once or twice (while painting his own toenails), but was only now learning his boyfriend actually liked lipstick as well. 

Lucky, once he was slightly less irate, said he wanted to take his mind off of his week and enjoy himself. Which is when he asked Barclay to make good on his promise keep his cock in his mouth for hours some night. 

It’s a fantasy Barclay often entertains, and he’d certainly entertained doing it with Lucky. But during the first few months he’d been careful about what dom/sub elements he introduced when they were together. He was (is) keenly aware of their ten year age gap, Lucky's raging crush on him, and Lucky's desire to please people and perform well in whatever he did. All things that he worried would make the younger man agree to things or push himself further than he wanted out of a desire to make Barclay happy. 

And so he’d gone slow, made sure Lucky would tell him if he was uncomfortable, tell him no, tell him to stop if something hurt. He had, with some hiccups, and gradually they’d tried more and more intense exchanges. Perhaps that was overcautious on Barclays part, but he would rather it be like that than hurt Lucky. 

His Lucky, driven and clever and striking as can be. He’d been careful not to get too attached over the first few months, let himself be okay with this being a crush that ran its course, or a summer fling for the younger man . But now it’s nearly September and Lucky shows no signs of ending things, leaves more things at his apartment, asks tentatively if Barclay would like to do X or Y thing for Halloween or over the holidays. He’d have every right to explore other options, to get bored with the relative stability and monotony of Barclays life. 

But he stays, he stays and Barclay falls more in love with him by the week. 

Another swipe across his cock shakes him from his thoughts. 

Wait a minute, bored. Stern has a mind that’s always going, gets fidgety when he’d without something to focus on.

“You getting a little antsy down there?”

Stern nods.

“Okay, well, since you’re being so good for me, you can touch yourself. But you have to stop when I say.”

There’s a swipe of a zipper and then Stern groans around his cock and Barclay forces himself to focus on his work. Starts listening to another interview. About two minutes in, Lucky's breath is ragged.

“Stop.”

Lucky whines, lipstick smudging a little from the moisture at the edges of his mouth. 

“Good boy.” He can feel him shaking more than normal.

“Is that position something you can hold much longer?”

Two knocks on the table. No.

“Sit down all the way, and you can put more weight on me if you need to, or lean on my legs.”

Shifting under the table and then weight leaning on his right leg. 

“Better?”

One knock. Yes. 

“Good,” he reaches down without looking, strokes his hair again, “and you’re doing so well, being honest with me when you need a change.”

A small hum of gratitude, hands running along his calves that suddenly freeze. He glances down, sees Lucky looking at him with a question in his eyes. He’s waiting for permission to keep touching him. 

Shit, _shit_ that’s hot.

“You can keep touching my legs like that babe, it feels real nice.”

The hands move again and Barclay turns the recording back on, takes a few more notes before-

“Lucky…” It’s a warning, his voice dipping lower, because the man below him has started sucking and, perhaps without noticing it, grinding against Barclays foot. 

He stops moving.

“You can keep getting yourself off that way, but this is your last warning about trying to make me come before I say you can.” He watches the gears turning in Lucky's head as he figures out the mechanics of doing one but not the other and then his hips are moving again, cock rubbing through his pants against Barclays shoe. He’s making choked, panting noises and his starting to strain from holding his head still even as he frantically tries to get off. He’s coming apart. 

Barclay lets him, turns back to his notes, waits until he feels Lucky's thrusts gain speed. 

“Stop moving.”

The hands on his legs are the only thing that doesn’t freeze, drawing up and down as Lucky looks at him pleadingly. 

He ignores him, finishes his thought on the page. Seizes him by the hair and yanks him off his now hard cock (which he then, somewhat regrettably, has to tuck back into his clothes)

“On your knees in front of the couch.”

“Wh-”

“Now.” He growls and pulls Lucky out from under the desk, half dragging him to the couch by his tie and letting him fall to his knees as he sits down in front of him.

“You wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please, Barclay, please.” His hands are in his lap, once again waiting for permission to move.

“Then jack me off, babe, and don’t stop until I’ve cum on those nice clothes.”

Lucky surges forward, hands working eagerly and Barclay grips his head and pulls him up into a kiss. It’s an odd angle but he doesn’t care because Lucky is making the kind of sounds he’d never admit to in public, fingers working him like he was born to do it.

He cums sharply. When they pull back to look at each other, Lucky's lipstick is...remarkably intact. He looks down and notices the new stain on his shirt, lets out a small annoyed sound.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll get the stain out. Iron it for you too.” He kisses Lucky's temple, begins putting himself back together.

“Ever the thoughtful one.” The other man smiles at him, stands up with a bit of a wobble and noticeable tent in his pants.

“Gotta take good care of you babe. C’mon, let’s get you some water.” He takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen, gets him a glass of water that he downs as Barclay takes some ingredients out of the fridge. He deliberately doesn’t comment on Lucky's...situation as he puts together a salad, and Lucky doesn’t press his, well, luck. Instead he talks about a case he’s hoping to help with at his internship. 

Barclay sits at the table but as Lucky pulls out a chair he looks at him pointedly. 

“What makes you think any of this is for you?”

The younger mans eyes flick to the table, taking in the single place setting, then to Barclays posture. 

“I take it my mouth is about to be otherwise occupied.” His lips twitch up into a smile. 

“That’s right, handsome. I said hours and I meant hours. And if you don’t have my cock in your mouth in the next twenty seconds, you’re in trouble.”

Lucky disappears from view, and in less than a count of ten his fingers are on Barclays zipper.

“Good boy.” He hisses in a breath as Lucky takes him in his mouth again. 

He eats at as normal a pace as he can manage, occasionally dropping a hand down to pet Lucky's hair. Whenever he does the man lets out a soft, happy noise and leans into the touch and Barclays heart does gymnastics.

“I gotta say, kinda liking the lipstick.” He glances down at enough of an angle to see Lucky's reaction in the form of an arched eyebrow

“They must’ve gotten the kind that’s supposed to last all day, to make it harder to get off when they fucked with you.”

Stern makes a facial expression to convey “yes, most likely.”

“You know what I’m gonna do about that?”

A shake of the head.

“Not gonna stop fucking your mouth tonight until it’s good and smeared.”

A moan and Stern nestles closer, making Barclay purr out a laugh.

“Always up for a challenge, goddamn do I love that about you.”

He sets down his fork, stretches and feels Stern perk up under the table. 

“Meet me in the bedroom, but don’t take anything off unless I tell you too.”

Lucky emerges from under the table, looking excited.

Barclay smirks as he follows him into the bedroom. He grabs some items from under the bed as Lucky settles on it, grabs for his tie before recalling Barclays instructions. 

“Color?”

“Green. God, Barclay, I feel, I feel…” His words die out as he looks at what Barclay has laid out on the bedspread. 

“I feel like this is about to get even more challenging.”

“That alright?”

“ _Yes_.” 

Barclay leans forward and kisses him, soft and slow. He presses fluttering kisses to his forehead as he instructs him to take his pants off. Lucky pulls of his slacks, goes to toss them, then folds them up and places them on the floor. 

“Lay down for me and spread your legs a little. Yeah, there we go,” Barclay takes one the black, Velcro circles and undoes it, wrapping it around Sterns left leg before securing it. He repeats this for the right leg.

“Bring your arms to your sides so I can do your wrists.” Lucky complies and soon his wrists are secured by loops to the bands on his legs, meaning he has no way of moving his hands or arms. 

“Comfy? Not too tight?”

Lucky tests the restraints as Barclay lays down beside him to kiss his cheek. 

“Yes, they feel rather nice. Soothing almost.”

“Good. Because you’re gonna be in them awhile. This too.” He holds up a gag, the center of which is a short, blue cock.

“Oh” Lucky breathes out, eyes going wide with interest before he snorts out a laugh, “are you about to say this technically counts as your cock because you paid for it?”

“Yep. You gonna be good for me and wear it?”

Lucky nods so fast he shakes some of his hair loose, parts his lips so Barclay can secure the gag. Surveys his work with a satisfied grin. 

“You can undo the restraints yourself if you need to, and I’m leaving you this” he holds up a green alien toy that squeaks, “right by your hand. You need to tap out or need help, squeeze it twice and I’ll be here. Alright, I got some chores to finish. After that, well, we’ll see. Might read for a bit, might fuck your face so hard you scream.” 

Stern moans and arches his back. Barclay winks at him and leaves the room.

\------------------

Stern focuses on breathing in and out evenly, on the feeling of the restraints on his wrists; they make him feel calm and safe, because Barclay put them on him and Barclay will make sure nothing bad happens to him while he wears them. He’s safe here because Barclay is in the other room (doing dishes by the sound of it), a barrier between him and the rest of the world.

A hint of spit trails from the edge of his mouth and he has a moment of feeling achingly messy, not helped by the fact that he’s still in his pre-cum soaked underwear. A deep pang of pleasure moves through him at that thought. He’s a mess and he needs, he needs….

He needs Barclay. He’s been gone too long and Stern is lonely and horny and his need for the larger man to return, to touch him, to take him is starting to overwhelm his desire to be good for him. 

He squares his shoulders against the mattress: no, damn it all, he said he’d be patient. He’ll be patient and stoic and-

“Look at you. So good for me.” 

Barclay leans against the door frame, dish towel thrown over his shoulder. He looks so casually imposing and in control. 

Stern whimpers .

“Don’t worry baby, just got a few more things to dry and then I’ll join you on the bed.”

Stern spends the next five minutes counting the number of objects he can hear being put away and then Barclay returns. He undresses down to his boxers, sits down on the bed next to Stern. 

Then he grabs his book from the bedside table and puts on his reading glasses. 

Stern growls around the gag. 

Barclay doesn’t look up from the paperback.

He tries a whimpering moan instead. 

Still nothing. Very well, he will need a new strategy. He shifts sideways little by little until his head is resting against Barclays hip. He bumps against the skin and the thin material of his boxers, do his best to channel a cat who dearly wants to be paid attention to.

Barclay turns another page. His free hand moves down, but instead of coming to rest on some part of Stern it begins palming at the front of Barclays boxers. 

That is simply unacceptable. Stern is right here, he’s been willing and ready to do anything to Barclays cock for hours. Drastic measures are called for. He shifts and rolls with some difficulty until he is get is head into Barclays lap, displacing the book. 

Barclay looks down at him over the rims of his glasses, an expression that never fails to make Stern turn to jelly. 

And then he rests the book just below Sterns neck, continues reading. 

This is agony, he just wants to be able to touch Barclay, to please him, he wants to show him how good he can make him feel. He whines around the gag again, noises tipping towards sobs as hips making fruitless movements in the air.

Barclay reaches behind his head and undoes the gag, and Stern gasps. 

“Please, Barclay I’m-”

“Did I say you could talk?” It’s not cruel or angry, merely direct.

Sterns mouth clamps shut, he shakes his head. 

“I’m at a good part. What do you need?”

“I need to touch you, please, let me suck your dick or kiss you orMPH”

Three of Barclays fingers enter his mouth and he moans, sucks on them, runs his fingers across them as he hears Barclay give a huff of pleasure. 

“That’s all you get for now. Something you want to say?” He removes his fingers, looks at him expectantly.

“Thank you.” 

The fingers return and he focus on the feel of them, and the fact that he can feel Barclays breathing pick up from here. 

Finally, Barclay sets his book down, slips his fingers out of Sterns mouth.

And onto his cock.

Stern yelps as Barclays hand slips beneath his waistband and begins working him in earnest. 

“Ohmygod, oh fuck, I thought you, you were going to make me wait until you were done, thank youthankyouthankyou.”

“Thought about it, decided I liked the idea of you being boneless from cumming so all you can do is lay there and take it.”

“Oh god, Barclay that feels so good, please can I cum, soon, please?”

“That’s a good boy, asking me for permission.” Barclays voice dips lower, “yeah, baby, you can cum for me.” The grip on his cock tightens and Stern twists in the restraints, orgasm hitting him square in the stomach. Barclay strokes him through it, dips down to kiss his once before withdrawing his hand. A thumb runs over Sterns lip. 

“My turn.” 

He manhandles Stern so his head is on the pillows, straddles his neck, tugs his boxers down to free his cock. Hurriedly puts on a condom, draws the head of his cock across Sterns lips.

“Lipstick’s still in pretty good shape. Lemme see what I can do about. Open up, handsome.”

Stern opens his mouth, feeling his already sore lips and jaw stretch to accommodate Barclay. He loves that feeling, loves how overwhelming it is. 

“Sssshit” Barclay groans, presses further. Stern can’t take all of him, but he’s learned to take more, relaxes his throat so the head of Barclays cock can just press against it. Then it drags back slowly, snaps forward and Stern moans, tries to run his tongue against it. 

“There we go, god _damn_ baby, I’ve been waiting all night for this.” He cups the back of Sterns head to hold it in place, works his other hand across the base of his cock even as he thrusts into Sterns mouth. There’s a tug on his hair and he gives a sharp whine.

“Gotta suck at least a little, not gonna do all the work for you.” 

Stern obediently hollows his cheeks, shuts his eyes in concentration 

“Like your reward babe? Like having me ruin that fucking perfect, sharp mouth?”

His head is yanked back and he licks his lips, slick with spit and the lube from the condom. 

“Obviously.” He pants and a laugh rumbles out of his boyfriend as a hand caresses his cheek.

“Still so professional. So _put together_.” Barclay sneers. The cock enters his mouth with more force this time and he gags, feels Barclay freeze and let him adjust so it doesn’t happen again.

“I swear to, oh fuck yeah, that’s it, to god you’d think you were at a goddamn meeting instead of tied up on my bed sucking my cock like it’s the one thing you’re good for.”

Stern groans, wriggles his hips and tugs at the restraints. More, is all his brain supplies, he wants more and more of this, more of Barclay, more of pleasing him. Barclay laughs again.

“You wanna know how you look? You’re a fucking _mess_ , pretty red lips all smudged to hell, cum all over you, shitshit, trying so goddamn hard to please you’re fucking crying for my cock.” Tears prick at the edges of his eyes and there's a thud as Barclay braces a hand against the wall, hips moving more and more erratically. 

“C'mon, Lucky, be a ohfuck, a good boy, take it, take fucking all of it, you feel so fucking good baby” the bed bangs against the wall and Stern lets himself go limp, lets Barclay take what he wants and then the hand in his hair pulls tight.

“Fuuuuck, Lucky, yes.” Barclay moans as he cums, fingers rubbing small, massaging circles against Sterns scalp as he pulls away. 

“Jesus.” Stern rasps as Barclay trails kisses down to his hips, head bowed and lips loving as he undoes the restraints. 

Slowly, he eases Stern up into an embrace, rubbing at his wrists. 

“It’s alright, they aren’t terribly sore or raw.” Stern mumbles but then Barclay kisses his wrist and he is not about to stop him from doing that again. 

“You did so well, baby, you were so good.” Barclay keeps peppering him with feather-light kisses and Stern sighs, then shifts and has an unpleasant realization.

“Barclay?”

“Right here.”

“I feel sticky, and I believe my shirt is ruined from sweat.”

“I can fix both those things. Let’s get you into the bath.” 

He guides Stern into the bathroom, instructs him to undress the rest of the way and starts the tap on the large tub. 

“Gotta grab something from the kitchen.”

Stern waits, his mind floating like the bubbles in the bath. Barclay returns with a tea tray, complete with mugs and a teapot. 

“How elegant.” Stern teases and Barclay snorts. 

“Not really. Made the tray myself. Everything else is from the thrift store.”

“How very you, then.” He slips into the tub and Barclay sets the tray across it before undressing and climbing in behind him. Stern lays back against his chest as Barclay begins cleaning him with a loofah. 

“I really did well?” He murmurs.

“Fucking amazing.” Barclays face presses against the back of his head with a deep, satisfied inhale and Stern relaxes fully against him. 

He’s moved on to sudsing Sterns back when the younger man turns and says, “you should disregard the interview from the two hunters.”

“Why?”

“It has many tells that suggest they’re lying. I can” he yawns “go over them in detail tomorrow, if you like.” He turns back to rest his head against the man behind him.

“Much appreciated.” Barclay is clearly trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Even with a cock in your mouth you couldn’t help trying to solve the puzzle, huh?”

“I was trying to not think about how desperately turned on I was!”

Barclay is now laughing full-in, hugs his arms around Stern.

“Hey,” he kisses his cheek until Stern turns to look at him, “love you.”

“Love you too.” 

This time Stern knows he means what he says. And that he always will.


End file.
